Trip is suited to a Model T

YOSEMITE

Published 5:30 am, Wednesday, August 26, 2009

Crossing a stream is no problem for Paul Whitefield and one of his sons thanks to the Model T's high clearance.

Crossing a stream is no problem for Paul Whitefield and one of his sons thanks to the Model T's high clearance.

Photo: DAVID WOODWORTH, LOS ANGELES TIMES

Trip is suited to a Model T

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YOSEMITE NATIONAL PARK, CALIF. — With all due respect to author H.G. Wells, there are no time machines.

Except for the ones we rented recently on a trip back in time to Yosemite National Park.

In authentic Model Ts or Model As from the early 20th century, visitors can experience Yosemite as their grandparents or great-grandparents did, bouncing along rutted one-lane dirt roads, splashing through streams or waking up echoes as you pull up to the historic Wawona or Ahwahnee hotels.

Few places are more glorious than Yosemite Valley on a sunny June day. Driving a classic American convertible heightens the experience as you move at the leisurely pace of yesteryear, Bridalveil and Yosemite falls roaring above you, the Merced River rushing through wooded glens.

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But be warned. You may be aboard a historic machine, but you'll also be rewarded with that holy grail of 21st-century life: You'll be a celebrity.

We knew we'd have fun. What we weren't expecting was to be so ... recognized. People smiled. They waved. They took our picture. They asked questions.

During our three-day, two-night stay at David and Sheran Woodworth's gracious Victorian-style Tin Lizzie Inn in Fish Camp, my wife, two teenage sons and I saw the sights in both a 1929 Model A, complete with rumble seat, and a 1916 Model T.

The Woodworths keep several Model Ts and Model As at their elegant two-suite bed-and-breakfast, available for guests or day rentals. They'll also arrange multicar, multiday tours of Yosemite and other historic areas of California, including the Gold Country and San Simeon.

To today's driver, the Model A is easily the more familiar of the two autos introduced by Henry Ford. In fact, driving it, I was immediately reminded of my dad's 1964 Ford pickup: the yardlong shift lever and the three-speed gearbox, which makes that satisfying crunch as gears mesh imperfectly with each shift.

Of course, things were simpler 80 years ago. Take the key, for instance. Forget the multifunction fobs of today; this car's key looks exactly like the one I use to lock my file cabinet. And that stalk on the left of the steering column? Nope, not a turn signal (it has none), but the “spark advance.”

There's also the tiny (and only) rearview mirror — or, as they were called in the day, the “hind-view reflector” — which is of little use. And if it rains? Well, there's a top but no wipers — or, as they were originally known, “rain rubbers.”

We made several circuits of the valley floor, about 34 miles from the inn. We stopped at Bridalveil Fall, then near the Ahwahnee Hotel to check out some climbers, followed by another stop for a picnic lunch. Each time my wife exited the rumble seat, she marveled at yesteryear's women: “How in the world could you do this in a dress?”

We made our way up to Glacier Point and then back to Mariposa Grove and its giant sequoias. The boys vetoed the hike, staying with the car — only to be set upon by Danish tourists who peppered them with questions about the Model A. Finally, as we stopped to show our permit on exiting the park, we were rewarded with a broad smile from the park ranger, who exclaimed: “I remember you guys!”

Ah, the life of a celebrity.

The next morning, fueled by another of Sheran's delicious breakfasts, it was time for the Model T. As I climbed behind the wheel, it became apparent that driving the Model T would require some adjustments. There are three pedals on the floorboard, but none is a clutch or accelerator. The far-left pedal functions as the gearshift: halfway up is neutral, all the way to the floor is first gear, all the way up is second. The middle pedal is reverse. And the far-right pedal is the brake.

On the steering column are the spark advance and the throttle stalks.

We made a quick trip down California 41 to a lovely waterfall for some picture taking. Now, 35 mph may feel downright pedestrian in your BMW. Aboard a Model T, the experience is somewhat more, er, exhilarating.

Soon, however, we left the paved highway and started off on a one-lane dirt national forest road. It was here that the Tin Lizzie showed its mettle. It was easy to imagine approaching Yosemite in the early 1900s this way.

The T bounced along, pulling strongly up hills. It's all mechanical noises, backfires and creaks and groans and rattles, but “the Flivver” is also surprisingly agile. One has an undeniable feeling of confidence — odd, given the car's age. What else do you have that's almost a century old and still works?

We approached a stream, perhaps 30 feet across and 2 feet deep. Without hesitation, the T splashed across, water lapping at the running boards. Try that in your minivan.

How much fun was it? That night, back at the inn, we slightly chilled yet sunburned parents offered to take the boys to dinner.